


Rise Up Like Rage

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Series: Khlyen/Turin unrelated [3]
Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Alpha Khlyen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Prisoner of War, captive Turin, false heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Omega AU for end of s1, beginning of S2 while Khlyen holds Turin captive.Turin enters false-heat as his body's last ditch effort to save its self from an aggressive alpha, and Khlyen spared him, although not before gruesomely injuring the omega. He whisks him off to tend his wounds, snared in the pheromone trap of the false-heat.
Relationships: Khlyen/Turin (Killjoys)
Series: Khlyen/Turin unrelated [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515395
Kudos: 6





	Rise Up Like Rage

**Author's Note:**

> I started this ages ago and literally forgot about it. it will be only four chapters, and basically nothing changes about canon.

* * *

* * *

He didn’t loose consciousness as immediately as someone who had been stabbed might hope; Turin lay on the ground, ears ringing, as his blood slowly pooled around him. Distantly, he was aware of Dutch’s voice rising in argument- but even that faded, and he was left gasping on his back. Shock was setting in, cold soaking into him faster then his racing heart could spread his warm, warm blood; foot steps, and the strange Alpha paused above him.

Even half unconscious, Turin could smell him. _Alpha._ It made his head swim, so strong and so close.

He could have sworn he heard him stifle an oath. Then everything but pain was erased as the stranger bent down and grabbed him by the arm, and hauled Turin across the ground with unnatural strength.

The started, agonized yell that ripped free of him echoed off the hanger walls, and thankfully Turin passed out before he’d been dragged more the ten feet.

~*~

He would have been lying if he said he was surprised to wake up, and still be in pain. Hell, _waking up_ was a surprise; to be on a bed, and not chained in a cell was also a surprise, but as he sat up slowly, his left wrist met the resistance of a thick padded cuff. It was connected to the hospital style biobed with a decently thick chain- wide as his middle finger was- and Turin didn’t bother to attempt to dislodge it. He took stock of himself, listening to the ache beneath his skin.

His ribs hurt; _hells_ his entire chest did. The fucker had stabbed him somewhere non-vital, but every time he took a breath, he felt the sharp ache of a partially treated wound. At some point in the last however many hours he’d been out, someone had changed him from his own, bloody clothes, into something … greyer. He was dressed in soft, loose clothing- he shoved the blanket down over his legs; a grey long sleeved shirt, and equally loose darker grey pants. Turin raised his eyebrows, _Pajama-y._ They were soft, but not warm, and already gooseflesh rose on his arms.

The shirt bumped out just under his ribcage, caught on something tapped to his skin; Turin lifted just the edge, grimacing at the dull throb of pain the motion produced. He had a palm sized piece of gauze just above his navel; a curious touch showed a matching one on his back. His chains just barely allowed the gesture.

“Son of a bitch.” Right. So stitches, from the feel of it. “Well, that’s inconvenient.” He muttered, tossing the blankets the rest of the way off, and swinging his legs over the edge. The floor was smooth and cold under his bare feet, and he curled his toes in discomfort. The pants he had been put in where too long for him, the hems pooling over his feet when he stood. The shirt was also too big, sleeves running nearly to his fingertips. _These belong to someone else._ Turin shoved the sleeves up, and propped a foot on the bed to roll the cuff up. The action of leaning over hurt, but it was betting tripping would hurt a lot more.

It rolled three times before it would sit above his foot- _someone tall_. It felt very scrounged together; the clothing was clean and new- or so well cared for that it was next thing to new, but so vastly outside hospital garments and too far from his own size. Like they were his captor’s. They smelled faintly of Alpha, but mostly of nameless detergent.

Actually, that idea had some merit. They were certainly tall enough. The Alpha that had attacked him had stood tall enough to address Dutch over his head.

His hospital/prison room was small and unremarkable. The lights were set into the floor, and the ceiling- the room brightened slightly as he stood up, environmental settings responding to him. His cuffs weren’t attached to the bed as he’d originally thought- Turin was able to get up, and walk the edge of the room, running his hand along the walls, until he located the faint joint of the door frame.

It didn’t do a damn thing when he pressed on it. Not that he really expected it to.

So, he was locked in. But unless he missed his mark, this was one of the medical isolation rooms.

_But I’m still on the RAC._

Turin turned in a circle, regarding the room critically. A bed, pushed against the wall, and white walls. A panel above the bed- but slightly off centre, as the bed wasn’t sitting directly underneath it anymore- showed his basic vitals.

“Bastards know I’m awake.” He tried to cross his arms, winced, and settled for standing with his hands on his hips. If they were monitoring him, then he would just have to wait.

Dutch had called the man _Khlyen._ She hadn’t looked happy to see him, either- Turin could likely put her in the ally category, given how horrified she had been when this Khlyen person had run Turin through. He watched the display for a moment.

“Fuck it.” If no one was going to come interrogate him, he was going to go back to sleep. At the very least if he was dealing with these dickheads, he could do so rested. The lights dimmed as he climbed back into the bed, settling back with a sigh.

~*~

It didn’t surprise him that when he woke up, likely hours later, it was to a figure beside his bed. Turin wrinkled his nose; the sterile room now smelled like _Alpha_ , and there was a second scent – something similar to his own, but stronger. It sat heavy on his tongue.

Khylen sat in a chair at his bedside, reading something on a tablet. He didn’t look up as Turin scowled at him.

“You can go back to sleep, if you’d like. I have plenty to keep me busy.” Khlyen said softly, eyes fixed on his screen. He tapped lightly at the display, not looking up at Turin.

“I would love to, but the last time I was in a room with you, you _stabbed_ me.” Turin pushed himself up, lifting his bound hands up in case he needed to defend himself from w _hatever_ the hells he was. Khlyen looked over the top of his PDD, smirking.

“Are you scared of me?” the Six asked, laying down his reading material in the blankets at Turin’s feet. The screen was dark, and reflected only Khlyen’s face.

“Call it cautious,” he shrugged, a quick, nervous motion rather then the dismissive gesture he’d aimed for. It made his chest hurt. “I’m unarmed and you’re crazy, so,” he made an aborted gesture towards him, then changed his mind and clutched the thin blankets higher. Khlyen continued to watch him with a look of amusement. It wasn’t a particularly comforting expression.

“And what is the blanket to protect?” He asked, cocking his head to one side.

“My maidenly virtue,” Turin snapped. Self conscious, he dropped the blanket. “Why did you—”

“Tend to you? As I have already said, I have questions.”

Turin snorted. He regretted the action; it _stank_ of Alpha. “Yeah well, I don’t have answers.”

Khlyen stood suddenly, chair squealing as it was shoved back; Turin flinched before he could stop himself, head tipping up in an automatic gesture of submission. He dropped it as soon as he’d made it, but could see by the flash of satisfaction in Khlyen’s face that said that the Alpha had seen.

Khlyen moved slowly, slow enough not to put Turin’s instincts up, but his _training_ recognized the threat. He leaned warily away, but Khlyen caught the chain between his cuffs – and the second one was new, he wasn’t pleased to find out this way-, and halted the motion. He leaned in carefully, and Turin froze.

It might have been instincts, or just fear.

The Alpha brushed his nose against the shell of Turin’s ear, scenting him. The feel of his warm breath brought a shiver to Turin that he couldn’t quite hide. Thankfully, the Alpha leaned away again, returning to his seat.

“You don’t know, do you?” said Khlyen, although Turin figured the question was rhetorical. The Alpha settled back in his chair, gaze wandering down his prisoner. “I was going to kill you, outright. But strangely, at the last moment my instincts stopped me. I would never have guessed the head of a RAC was an Omega.”

Turin sneered. “These are progressive times. They even let me wear shoes outside the kitchen.” Not that he had shoes on now.

Dammit, now he could feel how cold his feet were.

Turin flicked a dismissive look at the Six.

“Thought you people didn’t give two wet shits about gender. Don’t tell me you’re a sexist.” He lifted his lip in a sneer, although the next wave of Alpha scent flattened the expression. It was strange; Turin had been on suppressants most of his adult life, had experienced nothing but controlled heats, and rarely, if ever, _smelled_ like an omega. In the last decade, he’d had exactly one issue with an alpha that couldn’t be solved by him pulling rank, or kicking the crap out of them.

Never, in all that time, had he felt so disoriented by an Alpha. But the scent of this one seemed to be buzzing in his head, and every time he shifted Turin’s instincts screamed at him to lift his head, show his neck, _submit_.

It was bugging the crap out of him.

Khlyen, for his part, seemed more distracted than Turin would have thought. When he shifted away from him, Khlyen leaned in; Turin could see the flare of his nostrils as he scented him, even from that distance.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his skin replaying the feeling of Khlyen’s breath against it.

Khlyen smiled, slowly, like he had a secret.

“You really don’t know.” He leaned in, elbows on his knees and hands loosely clasp in front of them. “Astounding. So it’s involuntary.” He leaned in _again_ , and despite himself, Turin froze, heart beating faster. The slide of his nose was much less polite this time; unconsciously, Turin titled his head to bare his neck, and the Alpha scented him from jaw to clavicle. He took his time, his breath a warm wash up and down Turin’s neck, as he breathed him in from clavicle to earlobe, and back again.

The Alpha looked hazy, almost lost in thought, when he sat back, and Turin could barely restrain himself from leaning after him. He had to clench his hands in the blankets to resist reaching for him. It was almost nauseating how strong the impulse was.

Khlyen looked like he needed to catch his breath.

He stood quickly, putting the chair he had been seated on between them.

“I haven’t tampered with your suppressants. They just…” he trailed off.

For a hot minute, Turin would have said he didn’t want to _upset_ him. It was bizarre.

“They aren’t working.” He guessed. It shouldn’t matter. He was past the age where he really needed them, they mostly just altered his scent.

“No.” Khlyen confirmed. “This- _appeal_ , it may be the worst of it.”

Turin pressed back, unsettled by this sudden shift in tone. The Alpha looked like he wanted to escape the room, and now he wouldn’t look at him directly. His hands clenched on the back of the chair, hard enough the frame squeaked.

“yeah, I get it. Just- just get lost. You’re making it worse.” He realized even as he said it, the words were true. He was leaning towards him, had been passively scenting the Alpha- likely why Khlyen had started to move away. Turin sat back, and then rolled on his side, pulling the blanket up to his ear.

“And get me some more blankets, it’s freezing in here.” He shot over his shoulder, as he heard the door tone.

Khlyen didn’t answer him, but he hadn’t expected him to.


End file.
